


In Extremis

by sonictrowel



Series: Long Night in the Blue House [78]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Episode: s10e11 World Enough and Time, Episode: s10e12 The Doctor Falls, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Officially going AU, Okay kid this is where it gets complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 12:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11714061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonictrowel/pseuds/sonictrowel
Summary: So, tiny little problem.Well, a few, tiny, insignificant, probably-not-even-a-big-deal problems.One, his royal round-faced prickishness had arrived, with his Cyberman factory fully underway.  Missy had been so close.   So close to being good.  He couldn’t really blame her for being confused by herself.Him?  Him he could blame.  The Doctor had shed plenty of tears for that fucking nutter already.  He was done with that.Two, he was slightly a little bit regenerating.  He did not have time for that.





	In Extremis

 

How had it all gone so wrong?

The Doctor had been so desperate to trust Missy, desperate to prove she could be good.  All the things they’d promised each other as children could finally be true.  She could see the stars with him— with _them,_ because she was going to help him get River back.  And then they’d save Athena; with their three heads together, they were bound to find a way.  And somewhere in the world, somewhere in time, little Amelia was just waiting for her parents to come home with a big sister and a kooky auntie she’d never met.  They’d bring Bill and Nardole, and maybe the Paternoster gang would even want to come along for a while, and well, he’d say it would be a crowded TARDIS, but it’d be more like finally justifying a tiny bit of the square footage!  

All those things he never, ever thought he could have— his best friend and the love of his lives and their family, all together.  The lonely, sad man in the box, journeying across the stars, never staying, never getting too close, always on the outside looking in… two thousand years was plenty for that.  He was ready for change, for a new start.  It would be loud and messy; River and Missy would raise _hell_ together, not to mention Bill and the girls.  He’d never so looked forward to being tormented.  And to have the sound of little feet running round the TARDIS corridors— hell, why not more of them!  After all, they’d have plenty of time.  Finally, they’d have so much time.

And why shouldn’t they?  Why shouldn’t he get to have that life?  He couldn’t go on forever as he was.  It had been so hard, changing into this cross old man, but look at him now.  He didn’t want to face the universe alone anymore, and he wouldn’t have to.  He would be so un-alone it would be disgusting.

It would be _wonderful._

But in the blink of an eye, that perfect picture began to fall apart.

One moment he was eating crisps and watching Missy be ridiculous, amusement and giddy hope bubbling up in his chest; they were taking the piss out of Nardole and the mystery was just getting good.  And then there was the stupid, scared bloke with a gun.  Nothing new— he dealt with scared, armed idiots all the time.  When you dropped in to do some rescuing or some war-averting, it pretty much always started with looking down the barrel of a blaster or five or 100.  Talking them down was second nature.  It was a bog-standard Saturday afternoon.  

But it all went wrong.

He heard the shot, and time seemed to slow to a stop.  

No, this was not happening, no, no, no.  

He promised her.  He only joked that he couldn’t be sure he could keep her alive; she was under his protection, she was his responsibility... she was his.  

Oh, no, please, not Bill too.

Shock gripped him, paralysing him.  The horror began to well up next, but he shoved it all down.  There was no time for feeling things, he had to react.  They said they could fix her?  Then he’d let them.  He’d come for her.  It would all work out.  It _had_ to.

 

But he was too late.

 

___

 

So, tiny little problem.

Well, a few, tiny, insignificant, probably-not-even-a-big-deal problems.

One, his royal round-faced prickishness had arrived, with his Cyberman factory fully underway.  Missy had been so close.   _So close_ to being good.  He couldn’t really blame her for being confused by herself.

Him?  Him he could blame.  The Doctor had shed plenty of tears for that fucking nutter already.  He was done with that.  

Two, he was slightly a little bit regenerating.  He did _not_ have time for that.

Three… Bill.  Oh, his poor, brilliant, strong, wonderful Bill.  He had to fix this.  He couldn’t lose her too.  He couldn’t let her down, he couldn’t watch this happen right in front of him, _not again._  He had to get her back.  He promised her!  He _kept_ his promises.

But he was wrong.  

When he’d first turned into this cross old man, he’d no idea if he was good.  He wasn’t sure he properly knew how to be, anymore.  There were certainly a lot of things that had always been a vital part of him that he’d forgotten how to do.  River reminded him.  She reminded him how to laugh and be happy, to be kind, to love.  But after all was said and done, he just wasn’t good enough. Not enough to make Missy good, and not enough to live up to his promises.  To River, to Bill; to any of them, in the end.  And he had to face Bill and tell her so.  Tell her that she had been changed into this thing, and there was nothing he could do.

But she cried.  She cried an actual tear, and that shouldn’t have been possible.

Oh, that was the trouble with hope.  It was hard to resist.  He shouldn’t be encouraging her to share his useless delusions that somehow, something miraculous might just spontaneously occur… but that was the only way he saw out of any of this, anymore.

“We're not going to get out of this one, are we?” she asked, reading his damn mind.

“Well, I don't know,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, as if that somehow helped anything.  “There are always possibilities.”

“No. I can feel it.  In my head, the programming.  The Cybermen are taking me over, piece by piece.  It's like I'm hanging on in a hurricane, and I can't hang on forever.”

“Bill, look, whatever it takes—”

“No,” she cut in, “I want you to know, as my friend: I don't want to live if I can't be me anymore.  Do you understand?”

The Doctor stretched the fingers of his bandaged hand anxiously.  “Yeah.”

“And that's not possible, is it?”

Oh, who was he kidding?  A fool to the end.  Hoper of far-flung hopes, dreamer of improbable dreams.

Idiot.

“Well, I'll tell you what else isn't possible,” he said.  “A Cyberman crying.  Where there's tears, there's hope.”

___

He was having a hard time feeling it.

What could he do, anymore?  What was left for him?  He couldn’t run out on these people.  Who would he be then?  Not the man River believed in.  The only thing left guiding him as the hope of her faded was that, in some way, he would live up to her love.  He wasn’t enough to save her, to save Athena.  He wasn’t enough to save Bill.  But he could be enough to save _someone._  To try, in the end, to just be kind.  That’s how she saw him.  That’s what he had to be.  When he was desperate and clueless and hopeless, he would listen to River, and she'd set him right.

But just maybe, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

“Missy,” he pled, turning away from the retreating back of the Master, breathless and drained from pouring his bloody hearts out.  “Missy, you've changed.  I know you have.  And I know what you're capable of.  Stand with me.  It's all I've ever wanted.”

“Me too,” she choked, smiling in the blue pre-dawn light, her eyes swimming with tears.  

For a moment, for one beautiful moment, he thought she’d stay.

“But no,” she breathed.  “Sorry.  Just, no.”

She grabbed his hand and met his eyes and no, she couldn’t be leaving him too, _no_ — “But thanks for trying.”

And then she was gone.

As the sinking feeling between his hearts threatened to swallow him up, the Doctor clenched his fists and made his way back into the house.

He bid farewell to Nardole.  To the last person in his life who’d known River, Amelia, Athena.  Who knew and shared all that he’d lost.  Who was there for him when he was an utter ungrateful prick.  

He didn’t manage to say so.

As they stepped back out into the creeping light of dawn, he tried to say his goodbyes to Bill, the wonderful girl he’d so terribly let down.  But the words just died in his throat.  

And then he was on his own.   _Without hope, without witness, without reward._  Her words were a constant mantra.  He was without hope for himself. But he hoped for her, if she lived on somehow, somewhere, that she could forgive him.  He hoped she wouldn’t forget again how desperately he loved her.  It was the final hour, in the deepest pit.  He had only one promise left to try to keep.

As the hologrammatic sun rose over the false horizon, the Doctor went to war one final time.

Cybermen burst into flames around him as he darted through the trees, picking them off one-by-one.  If it was the end, he’d take as many down with him as he could.  He’d take his revenge for every world they tried to conquer, for all the beautiful, frail, fallible, wonderful humanity they tried to erase.  For Bill.  For everyone he failed to save.

And then he was on his knees in the dirt, and his body was still stubbornly trying to claim this wasn’t the end.

“Doctor,” he sighed.  “Doctor, let it go.  Time enough.”

The glow faded from his hand.  He took a deep breath, and raised his sonic.

 

 

 

_Pity. No stars. I hoped there'd be stars._

 

 

 

Someone was calling him.  No, no, they were _all_ calling him.  Why were they calling him?  He was dead, gone.  It was too late.  He was done.  He couldn’t do any more.  He couldn’t be the Doctor anymore.

Sarah Jane.  Amy.

_...Clara?_

River, oh, no, River.  It was too late. _I’m so sorry, dear._

Missy.

The Doctor sat up with a gasp.

“Sontarans perverting the course of human history!”

His head swam.  He staggered to his feet, swaying back and catching himself against the console.

“I don’t want to go,” he said breathlessly.

No, it was like last time.  Last time, when he’d been fighting so long, alone.  He’d spent forever being Bow Tie.  He’d done so much.  Loved and lost her.  Lost a little bit of himself.  But he knew, in the end, who he was.

“When the Doctor... when the Doctor was me.  When the Doctor was me,” he whispered.  “It's starting.  I'm regenerating.”  

The ringing, the golden light, the glow of his treacherous Time Lord cells trying to change everything that he was again.

The TARDIS brakes groaned.

“No, no, no, no, no, _no!”_

The light flared out at the same time as the TARDIS landed.

“Where have you taken me?” he shouted.  “If you're trying to make a point, I'm not listening!  I don't want to change again.   _Never again!_  I can't keep on being somebody else!”

It was too much.  Too, too much.  He couldn’t lose it all again.  He was done.  Couldn’t he just be done?  

“Wherever it is, I'm staying.”

The Doctor stumbled out of the door into a blizzard, another searing flare of energy instantly trying to take him over as he fell to his knees.

 _“No!”_  He thrust his hands into the snow, the light shuttering out again with a hiss.

“I _will not change!”_

Suddenly, he heard a deep voice in the distance, carrying over the wind, grumbling and half-shouting about something he couldn’t quite hear.

“Hello?” he called. “Is someone there?”

A figure was advancing through the snow, he couldn’t make it out at first through the blizzard—

“...am I even doing here?  This is not what I programmed!”

The Doctor sucked in a breath as the distance closed between them and the figure suddenly stopped, looking at him in shock.

“You!” they shouted in unison.

“What the hell are you doing here!” he yelled.

“Wh— is that just the standard Time Lord greeting in the future or something?!”

The Doctor scrambled to his feet, immediately drawing himself up to his full height and advancing on the Fop with attack eyebrows drawn.

“Oh, bravo, you’ve grown a couple of inches,” his younger self sighed derisively.  “You can quit _looming_ like the grim reaper.”

The Doctor huffed, affronted.  “...H-haven’t you changed your fucking coat yet?” he finally demanded, for lack of a better comeback.

“I’ve been living in the 1890s!”

“It’s a damn Wild Bill Hickok costume and you know it.”

“You are aware that you're wearing a velvet coat at this very moment?”

“W-well…!” he stammered.  “River likes it!”

_“I know!”_

They glared in silence.

“Hang on— you know me?  You know _River?”_

The younger Doctor shifted nervously.  “Well, yes…”

“Then where is she?!”

“She… she didn’t come home,” he said, his voice wobbling slightly.  “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I went looking for her, only the TARDIS isn’t cooperating.”

The Doctor’s throat went dry.  “No, you _really_ were not supposed to,” he said hoarsely.  “You can’t be there.  Neither of us can.  That’s probably why the TARDIS dumped you here.  And speaking of…” he sighed.  “Come on, let’s get out of this damn blizzard.”

He turned and walked into his TARDIS, trying not to limp too visibly.

“You’ve redecorated,” the Fop announced behind him as the doors shut.  “I don’t like it.”

“You never fucking do.”

"Well, the bookshelves round the sides are alright."

Something else, something was nudging at his brain….  “Wait,” he said, whirling around to face himself, “where did you leave Milly?!”

“She’s with Vastra.  I’m not an idiot.  _—Well..._ ”

“And Vastra just let you go?  Isn’t she supposed to, to keep you and call me to erase your memories?”

“I… didn’t exactly tell her River was gone.  I said I was taking her out for our anniversary.”

 _“Your!”_  The Doctor’s mouth opened and shut in mute outrage.  “You don’t _have_ a damn anniversary, _we_ do!  You, you, you haven’t even met her yet!”

“It seems to me that you remember exactly how well I know her.”

“Shh-shh-shh-shut up, shut up!”

“You know, I'd been led to believe that you were the adult of the two of us.  The very picture of maturity, I must say, old man.”

“Old—!” the Doctor let out a breath, forcing himself to deflate before he got offended over something he said about himself on a regular basis.  Which, to be fair, was exactly what was happening right now.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.  “Shall I just go pick up Rainbows and Bow Tie and we can all have it out with a fucking punch-up?”

The Fop chuckled.  “Well, to be fair, you started it.”

“Oh, yes, now _there’s_ maturity.  What did I expect, you’re a damn kid.”

“I’m over eight hundred years old!”

“Ohh ho, big man, are ya, lad?  Eight fuckin’ hundred,” he whistled in sarcastic appreciation.

“Oh, aren’t we _done_ with this yet?” his younger self sighed irritatedly.

“Oh, yeah, we’re done.   _You_ are done, junior.  You thought you’d just take it upon yourself to fuck up the whole timeline?  Come on, where’s your bloody TARDIS parked?  You need to get your idiot arse back to Baker Street, and then I am wiping your damn mind and I am taking my kid!”

The look on the Fop’s face as soon as those words left his mouth was finally enough to give him pause.  Oh, god, what was he doing?  It was him.  Him losing them.  Not bad enough he had to live through it so many times, now he had to do it to himself.

“Look…” he sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry.  I… I know.  Believe me.”

“You remember this?” his younger self asked, looking down with a rueful smile.

“Um, no.  Not this bit.  Well— makes sense, I’m here.  So you can’t remember.  But… I’ve lost them too.”

“But you got them back,” he said, glancing up again.  “Right?”

The Doctor swallowed, looking at the floor.

 _“Right?”_ the Fop asked, stepping closer.

He finally lifted his head, forcing a humourless smile.  “I fucked it up, alright?  Nothing went the way it was supposed to.  I was… dead, until a moment ago.”

The younger Doctor gaped at him.  “You’re out of regenerations?”

“...No,” he admitted.  “But I’m not doing it.  I’m done.  I’m not changing again.”

“It’s just a face.  And some personality quirks, sure, but… I know it can be traumatic for a while, but it’s change or die, and you’d rather _die?”_

“When you put it that way… well.  It just sounds bad.”

“You know River doesn’t care.”

He laughed sardonically.  “No, no, she never does.  But she’s gone.”

“G— what do you mean, gone?  She said you’re fixing this.  She _said_ you’re getting her back!”

“I told you, it all went wrong.  I’ve no idea how to get her back.  I… I don’t think I can.”

“What?  No, no, no, what is wrong with you?!  You don’t get to give up!”

“You don’t understand,” the Doctor rasped, head in his hand.  

“No, no, _you_ don’t understand!  She— she talks about you like you’re some sort of saint.  Like you’d never, ever hurt her.  And she…” he trailed off, his voice breaking.  “She treats me like I’m you.  She told me, she _showed_ me, that it’ll be worth losing everything, so one day I can be you and we can all be together.  So, no, this is _not_ what I am going to become.  River deserves better.  You are not allowed to give up on her!  I won’t let you!”

“You think I want this?!” he demanded.  “All this time, I’ve been trying to figure it out.  Eighty-one years.  Missy was going to help me, but she’s gone now.  Milly— future, grown-up Milly, she was working with me, but she hasn’t phoned in months, and I can’t find her.  And River… She’s on the hard drive, in the Library.  Or at least, she was.  That’s how I was going to save her, I just needed to find a way to get her out.  I used to see her, at night— psychic link in my dreams.  But that stopped months ago too.  Everything’s gone silent.  They’re just… gone."  He shook his head.  "I did something wrong.  I fucked something up.  It all went wrong.”

“You don’t _know_ that!  You don’t—”

“Athena’s dead.”

_“What?”_

“She has been all along.  She died in the Library, with River.  We... hadn’t seen her since she was a little girl.”  His voice failed him and he swallowed, clenching a tingling fist before it could flare up again.  “She used a fob watch to hide from the Council when she left America.  And she went there, and she died.  I saw it happen.  Right in front of me.  I was young and stupid and I had no fucking clue who either of them were, and I lost them both.  I met River on the day she died.”

“No,” the Fop said firmly, “you didn’t.  You met her at Golden Futures, posing as a temp.”

“Well, _now_ I know that.  Doesn’t change anything.”

“Yes, yes it does!  Because _I’m here,_ and if you’re not going to fix this, I will!”

“What can I do?!  I’ve thought of everything.  You… you must know I’d try everything.  But I was supposed to be waiting for something.  I must’ve missed my chance, or changed something along the way.”

“Waiting for something?  Like what, for instance?”

“I don’t fucking know.  It never happened.  Whatever it was, it never came.”

“Like, possibly, you coming to knock some sense into yourself?  Because I’m really not partial to violence, but in this instance I _will_ do so if required.”

The Doctor looked up sharply.  “I— ...maybe.  Yeah, maybe... maybe I do need your help?”

“Well, it’s about time.  Now can we safely take you off suicide watch and talk about the plan?”

“I… I don’t know.  Missy and me, we were going to go to Gallifrey, and try to retrieve her physical imprint from when she was in the Matrix.”

“You… you _what?”_

“Oh.  Spoilers.  But I don’t even know if… it was a long shot from the start.  Also, Gallifrey sort of wants my family dead, or to stay dead, and probably wouldn’t mind if I joined them."

“Yes, she did mention something about that.  Good to see my diplomatic relations with the homeworld have reached a new all-time low.”

“The only other thing I can think to do is…”

“She wouldn’t take me there.  The TARDIS, she refused.”

“She wouldn’t take _you._  Maybe she’ll take us.”

“Haven’t you tried that, yet?  Going to the actual… Library?”

The Doctor’s lips twitched into a grim smile.  “I was too fucking terrified before.  And then she told me to wait.  I’ve been waiting for… for a sign, for whatever it is that makes me able to solve this.”

The Fop shrugged.  “Am I sign enough?”

“I… I guess we’ll find out.  Bring you back to your TARDIS later?”

He nodded, squaring his jaw as he looked nervously over the console.

“I only know it has to be a certain time after Trenzalore,” the Doctor mumbled, more to himself than to… well, himself.  “But maybe you know, Old Girl…” his fingers flitted uncertainly above the controls, until the lever suddenly self-engaged, the time rotor whirring to life.

“That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” his younger self asked, smiling hopefully.

Hope.  Oh, why did it have to torment him again?

“Could be,” he muttered.

The brakes wheezed and went quiet.  

The Doctors exchanged a cautious look before moving for the door.

It creaked open onto an expansive view of red grass and an orange sky.

“Oh, fuck,” the Doctor sighed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> We are officially in AU land now! I thought about bringing in One and Polly and Ben too, but I didn't feel like I knew them well enough to do them justice, and frankly, I like my idea better. :p


End file.
